


Punch-Drunk and Available

by mia6363



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Physical Assault, Alternate Universe, Awkward Kissing, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, Flirting In Hospital Beds, Hospitalization, Meet-Cute, Peter's going to laugh about this for the rest of his life, awkward first meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 12:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15534495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia6363/pseuds/mia6363
Summary: “How,” Peter Hale, professional doctor at Kindred Hospital, giggled as he crossed his arms, taking a good look at his best friend and the man she’d pepper sprayed. “How did this happen?”





	Punch-Drunk and Available

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubyredhoodling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyredhoodling/gifts).



Even though Kira lived in a city, there were times when it could feel like a small town. Most of the instances were sweet, when she ran into friends at the grocery store or someone stopped her on the way to work that she met at a party. Her parents had been worried that Philadelphia would swallow her, but after years it was starting to feel like a home. 

It didn’t always work out. Like a few seconds ago, when Kira had turned the corner to see her crazy ex walking right towards her, restraining order be damned. 

Her boots slipped on the sidewalk. The key was to _not_ run, to keep her shoulders braced and to remember that running only made him go faster. She just needed to backtrack, and her first thought was to 30th street station. There were a lot of people, plenty of exits, immediate and more long-distance, and a lot of police. Heading back to the station from the art museum would be a bit of a haul but she could make it, as long as there was at least one other person on the sidewalk. 

The risk… would be the bridge. 

Her ex was fast, and if he wanted… he could have run to the other bridge, and if he _sprinted…_

The street lamps were dull and Kira walked faster, her fingers closing around her pepper spray, and she _finally_ reached the other side of the bridge. Holding her breath, Kira turned— to see that no one was behind her. 

Not a bystander, and not her ex. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the low whispers of traffic hummed behind her, the electronic voice that prompted folks to _wait_ before crossing repeated its monotone droll. _Easy Kira,_ she easily conjured Peter’s voice, _you’re almost there, and then everything will be golden._

 _Golden,_ she blew out a long breath, turning on her heel, _I’ll be golden—_

A large hand touched her shoulder and Kira _screamed._ She yanked her hand out of her pocket and held the bottle up and pressed her finger down as hard as she could. Adrenalin tunneled her vision and she could hardly hear anything when a fist connected with her nose. Kira fell on the ground, the sidewalk chewing up her knees and shins because _of course_ she had to wear a skirt that day. 

Tears blurred her vision, sliding down her cheeks even as she kicked herself away, not caring about the gravel and grit scratching the back of her thighs. 

“Fuck!” A wrecked gravelly voice that was _not_ her ex hiccuped and the blurry figure fell to their knees. Kira rubbed the tears from her eyes, still sucking in air wildy, to see… a random man on his knees, his eyes slammed shut and bits of skin on his face already looked tight and was starting to peel. _“Fuck-fuck-shit-fucking-ow—”_

“Oh my God.” Kira’s chest seized in awkward pulses, her body shaking from the flood of _run-run-run_ in her veins. “Oh my God. Oh my _God,_ I’m so _sorry._ ” Kira’s knees shook too hard for her to properly stand and she ended up stumbling and falling back down, skidding a few inches closer to the man. “Are you okay?” 

The man flinched when sher fingers skimmed his jacket. 

_“No.”_ His hands were pressed against his squeezed-shut eyes, his lips pulled back to expose large teeth, his grimace shimmering in the streetlight. “Christ, I was already lost and now I can’t fucking _see.”_

“It will go away,” the more Kira’s heartbeat slowed, the more her nose throbbed and she realized she tasted blood. She touched her face, wincing as her fingertips slid through hot, sticky blood. “We need to go to the hospital.” Kira hiccuped and when she touched the stranger he didn’t flinch. “There’s no way an Uber will pick us up…” 

Peter was on his shift, which was great but Kira just had to _get_ to him. 

“My friend,” the man wheezed, his hands waving in the air searching for something to steady himself on. Kira immediately gave him both of her hands. “He’s got a car— holy _shit_ is that blood?” He pulled himself up and he wouldn’t be able to open his eyes for hours but he still squeezed Kira’s sticky fingers. “Are you bleeding?” 

The man’s name was Bobby Finstock. His phone code was his birthday. His friend was a former student named Stiles. Stiles drove a busted-up Jeep and he had big brown eyes that widened when he pulled up to their street corner fifteen minutes later. 

“Holy shit!” He scrambled out of the car opening the back doors and helping Bobby inside. “What the fuck happened? Who are you?” 

Kira crawled in the back of the car with Bobby, her hand still clasped tight in his.

“I’m Kira Yukimura.” Her voice was steady, somehow, and when Stiles met her eyes in the rear-view mirror, she didn’t flinch from his gaze. “Take us to Kindred, I know a doctor there.” 

She dug her phone out of her pocket with her free hand and texted Peter as Stiles hit the gas.

::::

“How,” Peter Hale, professional doctor at Kindred Hospital, giggled as he crossed his arms, taking a good look at his best friend and the man she’d pepper sprayed. “How did this happen?” 

“Don’t look at me,” Bobby’s gently patted the aloe spread around his eyes, cracking his eyes open for a split second, “I was just going to ask for directions.” 

Another stab of guilt made Kira hunch her shoulders. Peter chuckled with a roll of his eyes as he pulled on latex gloves. Stiles just watched, half-horrified and entirely riveted. That was a common side-effect of Peter Hale. Kira swallowed. 

“I saw my ex.” Peter’s smile stiffened. “I thought,” Kira’s hands shook which was _stupid_ because all the drama was over. “I thought it was him so I just, I just—” she turned to Bobby even though he still couldn’t open his eyes for more than a few seconds. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” 

“Psh,” he waved his hand, his brows brought down low, wrinkles cut deep into his forehead. “I’m sorry I clocked you in the face. I can’t, I can’t really see, but how bad is it?” 

“Oh, her nose is definitely broken.” Peter chirped. Bobby made a strangled noise of confusion and Stiles hissed out a _her face is fucking covered in blood, dude, it’s not that surprising,_ as Peter turned back to Kira. “All right. Get on the bed, let me take a look.” 

Kira heard Stiles whisper _this guy is hot, but is he actually a professional_ to Bobby. Peter ignored them, his gaze focused on the cuts across Kira’s legs and knees, then on her face. He gently touched her cheeks, , using a cloth to clean the blood off. Peter ‘s lips pressed into a white line, his fingers feather-light on her nose. Kira still pushed out a rush of air, her eyelashes fluttering as she kept herself still despite the sharp _ache_ in her face. 

“You’re lucky.” Peter took his hands away, peeling off the gloves so that when he squeezed Kira’s shoulder it was skin-to-skin. “It’s a hairline fracture, not a big break. It’s going to hurt, but you’re not going to need to be set.” 

Bobby insisted that Stiles go home to sleep instead of sitting in a chair, and Peter kissed the top of Kira’s head with a whispered, “I’ll come get you after my shift.” 

And then it was just the two of them. 

“So,” Bobby’s voice was sharp, like polished steel that would clip around his teeth like cracked ice, “my plans were to visit an old student and let him catch me up on his life, maybe treat the kid to a dinner that wasn’t shitty ramen. What were your plans for tonight?” 

Kira laughed, then groaned because it _really_ hurt her nose, but then kept snickering past the pain. 

“This pretty much nailed it.” Bobby snorted, lazily flipping her off. Kira wrung her hands. “I just wanted to get a pizza and watch cooking competitions.” Kira sighed. “Assaulting someone wasn’t on the to-do list.” 

Bobby shifted on his hospital bed, his skin already looking better. His eyes were still closed. 

“This hurts, but compared to other weird shit I’ve seen happen to eyes, I’d take this.” 

“What is worse than being pepper sprayed?” 

Bobby waggled his eyebrows. 

“A friend of mine in high school was obsessed with the ideas of strip clubs, so at eighteen that was all he wanted to do. He went, got a few lapdances, and then went back to school. After a few days, his right eye started to itch. His mom thought maybe it’s pink-eye. But then it got swollen,” Bobby held his fingers in front of his closed eye, “this far. Full of pus.”

“Oh geez,” Bobby faltered and Kira quickly continued, “keep going. I need to know what happens.” 

The lights were dimmed in their room, the hallways hushed. Kira pulled the sheet higher, up to her chin and turned on her side, holding her pillow to her stomach. She felt younger, like she was at a sleepover.. She shuffled down the bed, and she saw Bobby copy her movements, hugging his pillow the same way even though he couldn’t open his eyes to see her. 

“All right. Well, his mom brings him to the doctor. Using tweezers and precision, they’re able to open up his eye to try and find the irritant. And they found it.” Finstock held up his index finger. “A single crab, crawling in his eye.” 

The nurse had to step in to _shush_ their cackling laughter. 

::::

“Kira,” Peter’s soft whisper immediately brought Kira out of a deep sleep. She inhaled sharply, eyes open and her pupils shrinking with the light. Her hand shot out to pull herself up, and Peter caught it easily, helping her to her feet. “Good morning.” 

“‘Morning.”

Her bare feet hit the cold tile and she shivered, pulling on her socks and shoes with clumsy fingers as Peter circled around to Bobby. Kira pushed her hair out of her face just in time to see that Bobby’s eyes were open, and he was staring at her as Peter spoke in low tones. Kira held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. He remained silent, though his cheeks were a bit pink. 

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah,” Bobby blinked, snapping out of it with a grin, “a broken nose.” 

Tiny _ow-ow-ows_ peppered through Kira’s laughter. She could see that Bobby was smiling, wider than he had last night, and Peter rolled his eyes. 

“The nurses said you two were chatty.” Peter narrowed his eyes at Kira. “Insufferably so.” 

She just laughed harder until she was crying from a mixture of mirth and pain. She reached up and Peter and Bobby reached out to help her. She smiled, taking both of their hands and pulling until she swayed on her feet. 

Time slowed into syrupy a drip. Peter’s hand was familiar, soft and meticulously cared for with manicured nails. Bobby’s palms were dry, calloused, and new. There was a comfort in familiarity, in routines. _New_ was often scary… but… 

_New_ was also exciting. And something new could eventually become familiar. 

“Want to grab breakfast?” 

Pinpricks of anxious excitement bubbled under her skin. She still had dried blood crusted around her nose and under her nails, her legs were scraped up, and her bruises were fading to a sickly green-yellow around the edges. The inside of her mouth was sticky and gross. She needed a shower. 

Bobby’s fingers tightened around hers briefly. The skin around his eyes were still painfully red, but when he smiled he didn’t wince. 

“Sure.” 

::::

Peter grabbed sunglasses from a gift shop for Bobby. The rims were pink and heart-shaped, and Peter insisted they were the only pairs left. They went to a hole-in-the-wall by Peter’s apartment, and within ten minutes (after a text from Bobby), Stiles joined them. 

Kira and Bobby sat next to each other, elbow-to-elbow. The waitresses tried not to stare at how hoarse their voices were from talking all night until they fell asleep. 

With the last remnants of adrenalin feeding her bravery, Kira wrote her phone number on the back of the receipt and slid it to Bobby.

::::

They met up for two breakfasts and three dinners. After the third dinner, Kira asked if Finstock would be okay with their next meeting being a date. At least, that’s how she recalled it to Peter, in actuality Kira had a hard time spitting out the question because her face kept getting redder and redder. 

She might have been embarrassed, but Bobby’s ears were just as red. His fingers shook when he ran his thumb over her knuckles. 

“You have weird tastes,” Bobby remarked with a wry grin. 

He waited with her at the train station where she’d ride back to Philadelphia. Wind whipped between the columns. A few other people lingered, checking their phones, the schedule board, then their phones again. Her phone buzzed, more texts from Peter to the tune of: _Did you make a move yet, coward?_

Her bruises were gone, though her face was still tender. Bobby’s skin had recovered. He had harsh lines at the corners of his eyes that only deepend and elongated when he smiled. He was tall, but he didn’t _grab_ the way other loud people did. Even with his wild voice and violent gestures, whenever he’d touch her to guide her, to quietly get her attention, it was feather-light. A light tap, followed by a lingering press. 

The rails squeaked, and the folks waiting all jerked their heads up, leaning out over the platform’s edge to catch a glimpse at the approaching train. 

“So,” Kira squeezed his hands. “Is that a yes?” His hands were coarser and bigger than hers. Peter said she had nothing to worry about, but he had confidence that Kira dreamed of. “Because you haven’t said yes or no—” 

“Yes.” His one hand left hers to gently brush her hair out of her face. “Are you doing this because you feel bad about pepper spraying me in the face?” 

“No,” Kira smiled, biting her lip to try and stop from laughing at how Bobby’s lips pulled back into an answering grin. “Are you only agreeing because you broke my nose?” 

She liked his laugh, how shook his whole body. It was sharp, and hearing it made Kira feel _vicious._

“Nope.” 

His hazel eyes flickered down to her lips. Kira stepped closer, into his personal space as his palm cupped her cheek. High-pitched metal squealing of brakes and a rush of wind had Kira’s eyes slipping shut as the train pulled in, as Bobby’s lips pressed against hers. He was warm, and he made a soft sound when she gripped his jacket, pulling him closer, smiling— 

Kira pulled back, wincing. 

“Ow.” Her fingers gently covered her nose. “Sorry, I guess it’s still sore.” 

The rest of the people around them began to move as the train doors hissed open. Bobby kissed her cheek. Kira grabbed his right hand and pressed her lips on the bruises that remained. Even over the noise, she still heard Bobby’s short intake of breath. 

_Until next time,_ she smiled against the tender flesh.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. What is going on with me, right? Well, I had to get this out, the prompt of "I was trying to ask for directions and you pepper-sprayed me" made me laugh too hard to ignore it. 
> 
> I will say, I'm feeling a little nervous about it since it sticks to Kira's POV. Now I'm starting to understand why I love ensembles so much, because no one feels left out. 
> 
> Anyway, special thanks to Ruby who listens to all my Kira/Bobby ramblings. She's been so patient and amazing. 
> 
> If you read this, please let me know what you thought, even fi you hated it!
> 
> Come say hi to me on [**tumblr**](http://mia6363.tumblr.com/).


End file.
